


How Far Does the Dark Go

by bentnotbroken1



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Aftermath of Possession, Alternate ending to SITN, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically fuck the mind flayer, Big Bang Challenge, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Character Study, Confinement, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Established Relationship, Eventual Happish ending, Flayed Billy Hargrove, Guilt, Hawkins National Laboratory, Hurt Steve, Jonathan and Nancy are good friends, Joyce is the best mom ever, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Possession, Post-Shadow Monster | Mind Flayer Possessing Billy Hargrove, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Relationship Issues, Relationship Study, Sad Billy Hargrove, So much guilt, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Therapy, Violence, determined steve, heed the warnings, know your limits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22666282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bentnotbroken1/pseuds/bentnotbroken1
Summary: Ignoring the kids advice, Steve goes after his possibly flayed boyfriend on his own. But he gets way more than he bargained for when he comes face to face with the shadow monster inside of him.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 56
Kudos: 164
Collections: Harringrove Big Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE HEED THE TAGS!!! 
> 
> This fic deals with the fallout of possession and the aftermath of sexual assault due to possession. So, if those things are triggering, this fic is not for you.
> 
> This is a dark alternate ending to my first fanfic SITN. BUT it can be read as a stand alone, as they are in a healthy established relationship before the events of this fic. 
> 
> This is a character and relationship study at its core. 
> 
> I really wanted to explore the mental and emotional recovery of possesion, (on both sides) especially after hurting someone you love. 
> 
> So, if you read all of that and are still determined to read on, I hope you like it(or really dislike it because it's sad)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠TRGGER WARNING ⚠
> 
> This chapter contains canon typical violence, graphic depictions of sexual assault, the aftermath of said assault, and implied past non con. 
> 
> Read at your own discretion.

**July 1985**

Steve is _pissed_. He's _so_ angry he's almost trembling with it. The Mind Flayer? _Really_? This shit _again?_ They can't catch a fucking break can they?

And of _course_ it's probably taken over _Billy_ , _just_ when he was making progress. He'd been opening up more. He'd been having less nightmares about his _dad._ He has friends now. He's finally _happy_. He's happy with _Steve_.

But sure, universe, let's screw him over even more, as if he hasn't had enough fucking trauma in his life. Let's just add possession on top of it.

And Steve knows the others want him to stop looking for him, that they want to wait for Hopper, but he can't just _sit ther_ e when he knows, or _thinks he knows_ , he's out here somewhere _possessed_.

But he's been everywhere he can think of and _nothing_.

Well, he wants to check _one more_ place before he calls it quits. One place that Billy could go, especially if he had unfinished business, and if he's there then he'll be ninety nine percent sure that the Mind Flayer _is_ back and has taken up residence inside of his boyfriend.

He drives slowly down the street and sees the Camaro in front of the house. His heart leaps into his throat. His hunch was _right_. He pulls up behind it and he _knows_ this is a stupid idea, ok, but he can't waste _time_ going back and telling the kids because by then Billy could be gone again.

He just wants to _see_ him. Just wants to assess the situation and _then_ take whatever information he has back to the kids.

So, despite that little voice in his head telling him that this was a _bad_ idea, a really _really_ bad idea, that he should turn the car around _right now_ and _leave,_ he turns it off and sneaks up to the house.

It's quiet, and he can't see much from the living room window, so he gives up and tries the front door. It's unlocked, so he slowly pushes it open, creeps silently inside.

At least until he sees something, something he had expected, but hadn't wanted to be right about. He sucks in a breath because…

There's a…

There's a _body_ on the floor in the hallway.

He knows it's _Neil_ but he doesn't know if he's alive or not. Wonderful. So his boyfriend could have already committed a crime.

There's movement in the kitchen and Steve is startled to see eyes watching him. He didn't even know he was _over_ _there._

"Well, this is a surprise."

It's _Billy_.

Well, it _looks_ like him. It has his smile, his _voice_ , but Steve _knows._

He narrows his eyes. "You're not Billy."

The _thing_ with Billy's face smirks, but it's still a little _off_ , further proving this is _not_ his boyfriend. Everything about it is off center. _Wrong_.

"Ah, you figured it out. _Good_. We don't have to pretend then." It walks right up to him. "Some would say you're not smart." It chuckles, leaning into Steve's space. "But _you_ were the first to notice that something was amiss, weren't you?"

"What do you want?" He asks, instead of answering, he didn't come here to engage in small talk.

"We can't tell you that. You're not one of us."

Yeah, _that's_ not creepy or anything.

"Alright, then what _can_ you tell me?"

It pauses, tilts its head in a very non Billy way and says, "He fights us. When it's _you_."

His heart stutters. _What_? "What do you mean?"

"This _host_. He always tries to make us stop whenever he's _aware_ , but it's usually a pathetic attempt. It never actually _works_." It answers rather flippantly, like Billy is a nuisance. "Except when it's _you._ It's actually a _struggle_ for us to reign him in the moment _Steve_ shows up." He clicks his tongue in a scolding way. "We didn't know why at first, but now we _do_."

Ok, Steve starts to panic a little because this thing is looking at him like he's a fucking snack. Yeah, he probably should have listened to that little voice earlier.

"Such strong _feelings_ humans have." It continues, circling around him. Steve turns with him, won't show him his back. "Emotions are _strange_. There's more than anger. More than fear. We still aren't used to dealing with them. But he always _feels_ so _much_. So strongly We wonder...we want to know what he will make us feel when we take you."

Steve opens his mouth to ask _what the fuck,_ but then it feels like the back of his head explodes and he's suddenly looking up at the ceiling. His head is swimming and there's a hand pressing down against his throat, pinning him to the floor. It happened so fucking fast the wind gets knocked out of him and he's a bit disoriented. " _This_ host doesn't _want_ to make you one of us. He is always so _loud_ when we talk about it." It shakes its head like it's getting rid of a thought. "Always _screaming_ at us."

Steve feels fucking _gutted_ at Its words. Billy is _in there somewhere. He's aware. He's fighting._ But he's _losing_ and watching his own hands wrap around Steve's throat. He'll blame himself for this. But it's not his fault.

"Not your fault, Billy." He coughs out, hands gripping the wrist that's crushing his windpipe."This _isn't_ your fault."

The thing laughs and leans in, nose brushing the side of his face as It speaks into his ear. "It's funny that you know what he's saying."

That just breaks his heart all over again.

It breathes in deep, like it's taking in his scent. "We think we understand the appeal now."

 _Yeah_ , he doesn't really like the sound of that. Not one bit.

The fingers at his throat twitch and release him before pulling away. Steve can see It shaking and clenching Its jaw. Then it hisses out, "Steve, _run."_

 _Billy's still trying to get control._ That's what this is. He's fought hard enough to take over. At least for a moment.

Steve listens and scoots backwards, out from under him, He scrambles to his feet, trying to take the opening Billy has given him, but he barely gets two steps before a hand clamps around his ankle and he trips, crashing back to the floor.

His hands protect his face from the fall, but he still lands _hard_ on one knee. " _Shit_."

Then he's being dragged back and he twists around, landing a fairly strong stomp right in the center if Its chest.

A _human_ would have let go. A human would be _hurtin_ g from that. But this thing? It barely moves, doesn't even _flinch_ , it just pulls Steve under it again.

And fuck, he's going to _die_ , isn't he?

It looks kind of pissed off now when it grabs his swinging fists in a bruising grip. Then it pins both of them above his head and digs a knee into his thigh to keep him from moving.

 _Shit_. _Shit_. Not fucking good.

"Nice try, but that was stupid, trying to run from us." It hisses, "Valiant effort on his part, though. He got us for a second."

It shifts to move both wrists into one hand. He tries to struggle but there's too much weight behind the hold.

"He was interesting to us at first, an enigma. Because the _other_ hosts are pliant. Easy to control." Its free hand squeezes his throat again and tears spring in his eyes. " _Humans_ usually give up when they see us. Fear overtakes them. They are more than happy to hand over the reins and disappear into the background. But _not this one_." It spits. "He never shuts up. Never stops _fighting_. Our interest has waned and we tire of wasting energy fighting him for control."

It stares down at him then and gets a weird look on its face. Like It's _checked out,_ like It's...thinking...or maybe... _talking to Billy_.

Then It blinks and looks at him like It's realizing something. Like something it has been missing is slotting into place. It's a look that makes Steve's stomach twist uncomfortably, because whatever It's just thought of, will be nothing but bad news for him.

"We know what to do now." It says, and the way It's speaking isn't comforting in the slightest. "Maybe he'll be quiet," It continues, letting the hand at his throat creep down to unbutton Steve's jeans. "If we hurt you."

Uh, no. No way. This is _so_ not fucking happening.

"Hey, hey, whoa." His throat hurts from the pressure that had been on windpipe and he's trying not to panic, but he's failing miserably. He still can't move his hands but he does try to kick it again. "Get the fuck off."

It doesn't though. It just puts more pressure on his fucking thigh and he yelps, but still tries to wiggle out of its hold.

"We'd be still if we were you." It warns, and Steve swallows hard. "It would be a shame to make him watch us _kill_ you."

He stops struggling then and It smiles Its smile, like It knows It _has_ him. And he _hates_ that because It _does_.

He can _hear_ the moment his zipper comes down and he feels light headed, though he doesn't know if it's from the _situation_ or the bump on the back of his head. " _Wait_ , _wait_ , _wait_ , let's just _think_ about this for a second."

It pauses and looks at him blankly. "We _have_ thought about it. We've seen what works. Humans respond better after _punishments_." He's suddenly being hauled up and flipped over, chin cracking on the hard floor as it pushes him down face first. "This is _his_ punishment."

He immediately feels cold as his pants and underwear are yanked down, and this is so far beyond fucked up, he can barely believe it.

"We don't understand _why_ , but this method scares him, so it will work best."

 _What the fuck?_ If It doesn't _understand_ , how the _hell_ does It even know what It's doing, then?

He must have asked that out loud because there's hot breath in his ear as It tells him, "We found out many interesting things when we sifted through his memories."

Well, great. That's fucking _great_.

He moves to get his arm out from under him, but as soon as he pushes up a bit on his hands, there's a stronger hand pushing down between his shoulder blades and forcing his chest back onto the ground.

He thinks Billy would want him to _fight_ this thing tooth and nail, but that's easier said than done. This thing is _stronger_ than Billy. It hadn't budged from a solid kick to the chest, dragged him across the floor, choked him, pinned him down, and flipped him around like a fucking rag doll. It could snap his neck in a second if it wanted to.

But It wants to do _this_ instead. And that's probably better than _dying_ so he doesn't struggle as much as he probably should.

It still makes him nauseous, though, when he feels a blunt fingertip push inside him. He hisses when it presses in further. " _Fuck_ , _dude_ , at least spit on it or _something_. It's gonna hurt _you_ as much as it hurts me doing it like that."

He doesn't know where the fuck that bravery just came from, but he seriously hopes it does what he said because if not, this is going to really fucking hurt.

It pauses all movement and he wonders what the fuck is going on when he realizes it's probably finding a _memory_ of _what to do._

Jesus Christ.

He knows exactly which memory it dredged up when it pulls his jeans down more until they are pooled around his knees and aggressively adjusts his hips before licking him.

And fuck. That's not fair at all, because it doesn't matter that Its doing this, _prepping_ him, because Its about to fuck him raw. The _knowledge_ of what is going to happen to him doesn't really matter to his body. Because it still _feels_ good.

The tongue is still warm and nimble, jabs inside _just_ the way he likes it and his dick stirs beneath him. That's not fair either. That his cock is betraying him right now.

He supposes his body is confused, after all these are the hands that usually touch him, the mouth that kisses him. His body is probably ready to fucking party. It's just his brain that knows the horrible truth.

He tries not to moan when it gets deeper, adds a finger, stretches his rim. He doesn't want to be enjoying this. It's violating _both of them_ right now. But he's already hard and he prays this thing doesn't even _think_ about _his_ dick, because he really doesn't want to come from this. Just the thought makes him sick.

But all thoughts of _that_ happening fly out the window a few moments later, because even with the spit and the fingering, he's still not ready enough to take a cock, but It has already become _impatient_. Wants to do it _now_. He _does_ struggle then, because it's just not enough and Steve panics.

He tries unsuccessfully to crawl forward but that just ends with his head being slammed into the floor again. His nose definitely takes some of the force from that. He can feel blood trickling down lips and over his chin.

He feels a bit dizzy from the impact too. _Fuck_.

Then he's being manhandled again and his heart thunders in his chest. He realizes it's because he's really fucking _scared_. Up until this point he was kind of just trying to compartmentalize, pretend it wasn't _really_ happening, but that's not going to work anymore.

Not with the strong arm holding him down, not with his head aching, and not with the heavy presence behind him. He shoves his face into the crook of his elbow when he hears the tell tale sound of metal teeth. He _really really regrets_ not listening to that voice in his head that told him this was a bad idea.

He clenches his jaw when he feels the head breach him, but at least his boner is deflating, so there's _that_. But it fucking burns and he tries really hard not to make a sound. He doesn't want to give It any satisfaction, but he can't stop the sharp cry that escapes when It just shoves all the way inside.

 _Fuck_. Ok. Just _breathe_.

He tries to breathe through it, he _really_ does, but it's too much. Still too dry. And he _begs_ for Billy to _black out_ because he's _going_ to cry, he can feel it, and he doesn't want Billy to hear it. Doesn't want to add more guilt to the plate because despite what the stupid Flayer says, this is _not_ Billy's fault.

It's _not_ _his fault_.

It pulls out and slams back in and he bites his tongue. Tastes blood.

 _It's kind of his_ _ **own**_ _damn_ _fault_.

Jesus, it fucking _hurts._

And he realizes pretty fucking quick that It doesn't comprehend limitations. Doesn't know when rough is too rough. And even if it _did_ , it probably wouldn't _care_ because it's a goddamn _monster_.

So this is going to _keep_ _sucking._ Keep being _awful._

Its fingers grip him hard, hard enough to leave bruises, hard enough to keep him still and the pace is brutal.

He was _wrong_ earlier. Dying might have been better. He wishes _he_ could black out.

He shoves his hand in his mouth and bites down, trying to stifle the sounds he's making. He sounds like a wounded animal and god he is _so fucking relieved_ that this thing is taking him from behind. He doesn't know what he'd fucking do if he had to look at Its face, at _Billy's wrong, wrong, wrong_ face, during this.

He feels sick, feels the bile in the back of his throat.

And Billy, Billy would probably hate _himself_ even more if he could see Steve's face right now, see what his own body is doing to him.

Fuck. This monster needs to _die._

He lets out a sob as the bastard hits his prostate hard. It doesn't feel the same though. It's more painful. Shit, maybe he shouldn't have cared that he'd had a hard on earlier. Maybe if he had one _now_ , he wouldn't _just_ feel like he's being torn apart.

But at least this is _it_ , this is all It's doing, and _surely_ it's going to end soon.

It's almost like It fucking heard his thoughts, because now It only has one hand gripping his hip and the other is pulling his hair, yanking him up on his hands and making his head jerk to the side. It bites into his neck hard enough to sting, enough to _bruise_ , before groaning, "This.. This is _better_ than memories make it look."

Yeah, well, he's so _glad_ the bastard has found the joys of sex while fucking doing this to him.

"We understand now, why this method works." It says and then bites down _hard_ on his clothed shoulder as it thrusts forward, making him scream in surprise.

_What the fuck? " What the fuck?!"_

They don't _bite_ each other like that. What the fuck kind of memory supplied It with _that?_

It releases him and he can't stop the whimper from coming out. "That _sound_." It moans. "Want to hear it again."

Oh fuck. _Please no. No more biting_.

But It sinks its teeth into his back again, snakes a hand up the front of his shirt to _scratch him_ and he just fucking _loses it._ Fuck trying to stay quiet. This is too much. The _pain_ is coming from fucking _everywhere_ now, so he lets himself cry and _begs_ it to stop. _Keeps_ begging It.

But it doesn't even slow down. Doesn't even act like it _heard_ him.

It's relentless.

It bites his shoulder in the same spot as earlier, this time drawing blood before releasing him. He can _feel_ it dampening his shirt. He wants to puke.

He doesn't know how much more of this he can take. He wishes he could make himself pass out. But he _can't._

He can't do a damn thing.

So he just tries to focus on _not_ throwing up as it fucks more noises out of him, as something in his already throbbing knee _pops_ when he moves wrong _,_ as it bites him over and _over_ , and squeezes his throat until he's fucking trembling and his vision goes spotty. But he knows it's almost over. He knows the signs and this is the first time the flayer is _feeling_ something like this. It's going to happen _soon_.

Thank fucking God.

And sure enough, a second later, it slams forward one last time before moaning into his damaged shoulder and coming in his ass.

There's a moment after, that he holds his breath. Because every movement is awful and he knows It's still inside of him, that It still has to pull out, so he braces himself for it. He sobs when It finally does, from relief and agony. He's not sure which one is stronger in the moment. Doesn't really matter. What matters is, it's _over_.

He can feel something wet on the back of his thighs and he scrambles to pull up his pants and roll over onto his back. He wants to move. Wants to _run_ but everything fucking _hurts_.

" _Finally_. It's quiet." It says, nonchalantly, like it didn't just fuck up Steve's whole life.

And Oh god. If it's _quiet_...does that mean Billy _had_ seen _everything_? Or had he blacked out? He's not really a praying sort of guy, but he's praying he didn't see the whole attack.

There's repeated movement in his peripheral vision and he glances over at it. It wipes at its face with its hand. It does it again and he realizes it's wiping away _tears_. Obviously it's not the Flayer that's crying about this. It's _Billy._

So, all his hopes are dashed in an instant.

_He'd seen everything._

Steve covers his face with his hands because he's trying not to cry harder with that information, and he really doesn't want Billy to see his face.

It zips up Its pants but doesn't move. He can feel Its eyes on him.

He wonders briefly if It's decided, _after all of this_ , that It wants to flay him anyway. Doesn't think he'd mind it that much, because he knows it's only a matter of time before he'll have to deal with the repercussions of what the Mind Flayer just did to him. What it _did_ to his _boyfriend_. What It _forced_ him to do.

Then he wonders if he'll even _have_ a boyfriend _left_ after this.

Billy was aware during the assault, so he's going to fucking _run_ once they get the Flayer out of him. Steve _knows_ him. Knows he will be so fucking devastated and feel so guilty he'll _drown_ in it. He's going to blame himself, hate himself and vow to never touch Steve again.

He may have just lost him forever.

It doesn't end up saying anything else to him, but he does hear It get up and walk towards the hallway and then drag Neils body through the living room and out the door.

He lays there and waits. Waits for it to come back. Waits for it to end him, but it doesn't.

He tries to sit up but the movement sends white hot pain coursing through him.

 _Fuck_.

But, he _has_ to get out of here. Has to _pull himself together._ Has to warn the others.

Now is not the time to be feeling sorry for himself.

So he sucks in a breath and forces himself to _move._

His head is _killing_ him, and his left knee is messed up, that he knows for sure, so it's a slow process of getting his feet beneath him and moving towards the door.

He feels dizzy for a minute or two, but he does eventually make it to his car. He cries getting behind the wheel, because, _ouch_ , and he takes a series of deep breaths to calm himself down. To stop crying. He can do this. He _can_. He's fought _demodogs_ for Christ's sake. He can _handle_ this. He has to.

So, he puts it in drive and drives slowly, because he's not really sure if he should even _be_ driving right now in the state he's in. And for awhile he wonders where he should even _go,_ because the hospital is out of the question, the doctors can keep their hands to themselves thank you very much, and the kids _can't_ see him like this. It would traumatize them, but he also knows that he _needs help._ He ends up deciding to go to the Wheelers anyway because the Byers house is too far and he's afraid he'll pass out behind the wheel from his probable concussion before he gets there.

And who fucking knows when anyone would be home?

But god, he is _so_ fucking relieved to see Jonathan's car when he pulls up that he almost cries again.

He's trying to figure out how to go about this, how to get their attention without the kids knowing, when he sees Henderson walking up to the Beamer. Somehow he always seems to know when Steve's there.

He still doesn't want Dustin to see him, so he shoves his hand out the window and tells him to stop. Tells him not to come closer. Tells him to _go get Jonathan_.

But Dustin, he hesitates, can probably see the blood from his nose on his hand and wrist. "Something really _bad_ happened didn't it?"

And Steve never was good at lying to him. "Yeah." He breathes, "Yeah, buddy. Something bad happened. I'm _hurt_. I need help, but it's not something you can do. I need Jonathan and Nancy."

"Ok. Ok. I'll get them."

"Don't… don't tell the other brats, ok?"

"I won't say anything, but," He can hear the worry in his voice. "You're going to be ok, right?"

"Yeah, man. I'm going to be _fine_." Ok, maybe he's a _little_ good at lying to him.

He watches as he disappears inside the house and then a few minutes later he sees Nancy and Jonathan both rushing outside, still in the clothes they wore to work.

Jonathan gets to him first and pulls the door open. He stutters when he sees him. "Wh- what the _fuck_?"

"Didn't know you knew how to cuss like a big boy, Byers."

"Dude, shut up. What _happened_ to you?"

By then Nancy is trying to push him out of the way.

"Steve, oh my _god_."

He flinches at her sudden movement.

He knows what they're seeing. The black eye, busted chin, the remnants of his bloody nose smeared across his arms, his hands and on his clothes. There's probably bruises around his neck by now, and blood soaking through the shoulder of his shirt, probably red splotchy marks on his face that he gets when he cries too.

He's a complete and utter _disaster_.

"I can't- I barely got myself in the car. My head-I think I have a concussion. My knee is messed up. I need.. I need _help_. And.. fuck, the _kids_ are in there."

Nancy suggests going to the hospital.

That's a hard fucking _no._

Jonathan nods in understanding. "Ok. We'll go to my house, then. Let's just move you to the back seat and let me drive.

Nancy looks worried. "Ok. ok. let's just…" She helps him move and to her credit _she_ only flinches once when he makes choked off pained noises.

Jonathan gets his arm around his shoulder and helps him out of the car and into the back. He's sweating and trying not to groan by the time they're done.

"Nance, go tell Dustin that I'll be ok. That we are dealing with it and will be back. He's probably having a heart attack right now."

"Ok."

She runs into the house and Jonathan clears his throat. "Who did this to you?"

"You want the truth?" He asks, head falling back against the headrest. "You may regret asking."

"Of course I want the truth." He says, and turns around in the seat. "You look…I _know_ you didn't get _beat up_ , Steve. This was something _else_. "

He feels like throwing up for probably the fifth time today.

"Yeah, ok, you're right...it's...ok so some weird shit _has_ been going on lately, " he starts, "With Billy.-"

Jonathan nearly hits his head on the roof, " _Billy_ did that?!"

Steve's head throbs. "Jesus _fuck_ , Jonathan. Do you want the truth or not?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sorry. "

"Jesus. Anyway, weird shit was happening and I started worrying because he wasn't acting like himself. He was doing and saying shit that just didn't make sense to me. I told Dustin so the kids and I worked out a theory and I couldn't wait so I went by myself to see if we were right or not."

"What theory?"

"That the _Mind Flayer_ is back." He says, and god saying it out loud _sucks._ "Turns out, _not_ just a theory. It's inside _Billy_ now."

Jonathan is quiet, and he turns back around. "The Mind Flayer is here and it possessed him?"

"Yes."

"And it did.. It did _that_ to you?"

His voice quivers. " _Yes_."

Nancy is running back out and jumping into the car before he can say anything else.

"Let's go."

He kind of spaces out on the drive there. He thinks he might be in shock. No, he is _definitely_ in shock. But Nancy for once doesn't ask him a bunch of questions. She's probably saving them for when they get to the house.

Ten minutes later they are helping him through the door and onto the couch.

"I just… want to take a shower first." He tells them. He wants to not feel so gross.

"Sure. I'll go get some clothes."

Nancy is staring at the side of his face. "Can you let me see your shoulder? I just want to make sure it's not still bleeding. We can bandage it when you're done."

He thinks about it for a second. "Yeah, just...don't like freak out, ok?" He says, because he knows some of the bites were deep enough to bruise, maybe even break a bit of skin. He slowly pulls his shirt up and over his head.

He hears her sharp breath. "Are those… are those _bite marks_?"

"I told you not to freak out."

She gently touches around the one that bled. He tries not to jerk back at the contact. "Steve, what the _hell_ happened?"

He puts his head in his hands. "Nance, _please_ don't make me say it."

Jonathan stops in his tracks when he reenters. " _Jesus_ _Christ._ "

He kind of feels like he's on display here. "I know. It's not pretty is it?" He sighs.

Jonathan moves to help him up. "Lets just clean you up. I'll..I'll help you into the shower, ok?"

"Thanks, man." He appreciates it. He really does. He doesn't want Nancy to help with that. Doesn't want her to see the extent of the damage.

Fuck, _he_ doesn't want to see the extent of the damage. He's already seen the angry red scratches down his chest and he can feel the heat from every bite on his back and neck.

Jonathan slowly lowers him to sit on the toilet and starts the shower. Steve hasn't moved, not even to take off his shoes.

It's not because he _can_ 't, it's because he's suddenly _afraid_ to. He's afraid of what happens now.

"Hey, you ok?"

He _wants_ to be ok, but, "No… no I'm really fucking not."

Then Jonathan is kneeling in front of him. "That's ok. Here. Let me help."

Jonathan is so fucking gentle with him as he unties his shoes and takes them off. It makes him emotional. And he feels like he's maybe done this before. Helped someone like this.

"How did you know?" He asks him quietly. "In the car? How did you know that I wasn't beat up? That I was-" He trails off.

He looks at the sink instead of Steve's face. "Because of the way you were sitting."

Yeah. He guesses that would probably do it.

"And," He continues a moment later, swallowing hard before slowly looking back at Steve. "My…my dad is an asshole."

His brows probably disappear into his hairline. _"Fuck."_ And he thought _his_ situation was fucked up. "I'm so _sorry_ , man."

"It was a long time ago, and no one knows about it." He says, and Steve thinks that is even _worse_. He is only _seventeen._ How old was he? Steve must be making some kind of face about that thought because Jonathan shakes his head. " _Stop_. I'm fine now. Don't worry about me. We need to worry about _you."_

Yeah. Obviously, Jonathan is ok now. His nightmare is over, and Steve is still living his, but his heart still hurts for him.

"Come on, we need to keep going."

He grabs the sink and stands up by himself, because _he_ wants to do this part, but he's shaking as he undoes the button of his jeans.

"I can't." He says suddenly. And It's stupid. It's _so stupid_. He should be able to fucking take his pants off. He doesn't understand why he _can't_.

"Ok," Jonathan slowly grabs his shaking hand. "Ok… but we have to take them off. We need to get you in the shower."

"I know. I know. I'm just… "

"Scared."

He nods.

"Ok... _What_ are you afraid of? Me being in here? Of being touched?"

"No, no. That's not it. It's...I'm scared of the damage. Scared of what I'll see."

He looks thoughtful. "Then we won't look, ok? You just keep your eyes on me and we'll just get them off and kick them away and then it's done."

"Ok. Ok. Yeah." He grabs onto Jonathan's shoulder with one hand and his zipper with the other. "Help me?"

"On the count of three." He says.

"One. Two. Three." And then they are down and he's stepping out of them and breathing hard.

"There. Done."

"Yeah." He replies numbly. "I can.. I can shower myself."

"Ok. But if you need anything, yell for me."

He agrees so Jonathan leaves as soon as he is safely in the shower.

He focuses on his hands and arms first because he can _see_ them and they're fucking _gross_. Then he moves to his hair. He pokes at his face before scrubbing it. His nose hurts but luckily it's not broken.

He works his way down. The bite on his shoulder is pretty bad. It had bit him there _twice_ , and it's _deep,_ so he carefully cleans the wound. He'll need to disinfect it and get a bandage when he gets out, but he knows it will most likely leave a scar. He can't see if any of the others had broken the skin. He'll just have to ask.

He hasn't actually looked down yet, but he knows he needs to. He only shakes a little bit when he sees the bruises blooming on his thigh, his hips and knees. His left one is definitely swollen. Hopefully it's not serious, he'd like to be able to walk by himself soon.

After he's done _looking_ , he scrubs his torso and back until he feels satisfied and then he just stands there for a second, looking at the washcloth in his hand. He doesn't want to go any farther. His heart pounds and he feels light headed and sick at the thought.

But he can't really ignore it anymore. Not that he'd been able to ignore the _pain_ this whole time, because yeah it _still_ fucking _hurt_ , but he'd been ignoring the injury _itself_ , _and_ what caused it. Didn't want to think about it, doesn't want to think about it _now_ , but he has to. He _has_ to take care of it.

So, he takes a couple long breaths and just does it.

It fucking _stings_ and he hisses at the contact.

Fuck.

He is so slow and careful and when he is done he pulls it away and looks down. He shouldn't have looked.

It comes back bloody.

_Shit._

This is what he'd been afraid of.

Like he had _known,_ ok, he was _there._ But he had pretended it was just the cum making his underwear wet.

Can't really pretend _now_ , can he?

And then it just... _hits him_ like a freight train.

It _really_ happened. It wasn't some nightmare he'd been having. He isn't going to wake up any moment now safe in his bed. It really fucking _happened_. The Mind Flayer is _back._ And It _used_ Billy's body, used the person he _loves,_ to _rape_ him.

He finally throws up everything in his stomach and proceeds to have a fucking panic attack on the shower floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was paired up with an artist for this Big Bang, so there is some awesome fan art of this fic. (Nothing trigger worthy, don't worry) 
> 
> https://kishock-harpoon.tumblr.com/post/190780945995/one-of-my-contributions-for-the-harringrovebang


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, If you made it through that incredibly disturbing first chapter, you'll probably do alright throughout the rest of the fic. 
> 
> While we are still dealing with some very heavy subject matter and emotional turmoil, there will NOT be any more graphic descriptions of assault. Only references.
> 
> I will still list all trigger warnings that will show up in each chapter. Please know your limits and read at your own discretion. 
> 
> ⚠TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠
> 
> References to sexual assault. Very brief discussion of injuries. Mentions/thoughts of suicide.

Jonathan and Steve have never been really close. That's probably because Jonathan stole his girlfriend, though. He's surprised Steve even _talks_ to him but they're _friends_ now, he guesses. They care about each other from afar. They don't hang out, don't tell each other stuff, don't get in each other's personal space. Never really wanted to.

Until _now._

He'll probably never tell Steve, but when he'd opened that car door and _saw_ him, he'd been scared to death. Steve has said multiple times that he's aware it's not pretty, but Jonathan thinks he doesn't really _know_ how bad it actually looked.

He's surprised he didn't wrap his car around a tree.

At first he thought it had been a fight, but he kind of startled when Nancy had pushed Jonathan out of the way. He'd noticed then how unnaturally he was sitting, and any injury they could _see_ wouldn't have caused him to grimace the way he had when his body jerked.

And Jonathan _knew_.

Nancy had been oblivious of course, but why wouldn't she be? She had no reason to believe it wasn't a fight. She had no prior knowledge to pull from, or she would have seen the signs too.

Jonathan wishes _he_ could have been that oblivious.

But then again, if he had been, then he wouldn't have known how to help Steve. For once he kind of knows what to say and do.

When Steve had asked him how he knew, he'd almost lied, because it's second nature by now, to hide it. It's something no one knows. Not something he's ever said out loud. But looking at Steve, seeing how much pain he was in, he felt like maybe it was ok to say it. He wanted him to not feel so alone. He knows what that feels like.

So he told him the truth.

He thinks it helped.

He _hopes_ it helped.

And now he's finally got him in the shower, standing pretty steady on his own, and Jonathan needs to leave.

He grabs the jeans off the floor and stuffs them under his arm.

He shuts the door behind him and lets out a shaky breath. He did well, all things considered. He didn't cry. But he'd wanted to. He kind of wants to _now._ Steve hadn't looked but _he_ had because he's throwing them the fuck away.

Nancy intercepts him in the kitchen on the way back and the way she is looking at him, he knows she's put the pieces together on her own.

"Jonathan, was he-" She doesn't finish.

He feels sick as he confirms. "Yeah."

"Then he _needs_ a doctor."

"I know. But I don't think he'll want to go."

"Why the hell not? He needs professional help and he needs to tell Hopper who the hell did that to him."

"He won't do that either."

Nancy looks incredibly frustrated. "Why _not_?!"

"Because…" He doesn't know if Steve wants her to know, but it's going to come out eventually. "because it was _Billy_."

" _Excuse me_?" There is a murderous rage in her eyes and he grabs her shoulders to stop her from going on a tirade.

"Stop, it wasn't _really_ _him_ though. The kids.. and Steve… they thought the Mind Flayer had come back." She shudders beneath his fingers. "And they were _right._ It's back and it's in _Billy's_ _body_ now."

"Oh my god." She whispers. " _Oh my god!_ " She looks like she's about to cry. "It used Billy to hurt Steve like that?"

"Yeah."

"That's...that's so _messed up_."

"Well, it's a monster, Nancy. That's kinda it's normal setting"

"But.. Will said.. he said he _knew_ what was happening sometimes. You don't think-"

"Yeah, Billy was probably aware. That could be why it did it."

"Holy shit." She wraps her arms around herself. "He's probably losing his mind right now."

He agrees. "If it's true, he probably is."

No. He _definitely_ is. It's obvious to Jonathan, obvious to _everyone in the know_ , just how much he loves Steve. He can't imagine how it would feel to have the Mind Flayer take control of him and make him hurt Nancy. It's unfathomable.

Horrific.

_Completely fucked up._

He doesn't want to think about how it would make him feel.

There's suddenly a thump coming from the bathroom and they both look at each other with worry.

"Steve? Hey, man you ok?" He doesn't answer, so Jonathan presses his ear to the door. He can hear gasping. "Shit. It's probably a panic attack." He's dealt with enough of them with Will and himself to recognize the sounds he's making. He tells Nancy to wait right there, before twisting the knob and calling out, "Sorry, but I'm coming in."

He's definitely in the middle of a panic attack. He's on the floor of the tub with his knees to his chest and he's shaking and crying and muttering _it_ _really fuckin happened._

Jonathan's chest hurts as he turns off the water and tells Nancy to get more towels.

He kneels in front of the tub to be level with him and starts calmly talking. Telling him he's ok. He's here with Nancy and himself. He doesn't touch him. Knows it might set him off worse.

Nancy comes back and hesitates at the door. He knows Steve didn't really want her to see him earlier but he kind of needs the help.

She kneels beside him and takes over the talking. Her voice never wavers even though there are tears streaking her face.

"Hey, shh. You're ok. You're safe. It's ok."

Finally some life comes back to his eyes and his breath slows down a bit as he stares at them, blinking away any lingering tears. "It's not ok."

Jonathan knows it's not.

"You're right." Nancy says. "You're right. It's not ok."

"It's fucked up." He tells them. "It's so unbelievably fucked up."

"Yes." Jonathan agrees. "It is."

"No, you don't _understand._ Billy was _fighting_ it." And god Jonathan feels nauseous again. "He even got control and it let me go once but it wasn't long enough." He looks like he's going to shake out of his skin, so Jonathan puts a towel on his shoulders. Steve grips it tightly. "But he tried _so hard_. He was...he was _crying._ "

Oh shit, he doesn't know if he wants to hear this.

"He's going to blame himself. And it's not his fault. It's _not_. That _thing_ can say whatever it wants, but it's not true."

"What did it say?" Nancy asks, because she can't _not_ ask questions.

His eyes move to look directly at her. "It said hurting me was his punishment for fighting back this whole time, for fighting for control. It was _annoyed_ with him. So, " He trembles. "It…it _fucked_ me to teach him a lesson."

Yep. That's bile he's tasting. " _Jesus_."

"So no matter _what_ he's going to think it's his fault. But it's not. It's really _not_."

"Hey, let's worry about Billy later, ok?" Nancy says softly. "We should be focusing on helping _you_ right now _."_

"We need to be focusing on getting that _thing_ out of him."

"Steve-"

That's when they hear the front door open and shut. Hear keys being dropped on a table and his mom calling out, "Jonathan? Why is Steve's car out front? Oh, god. _Please_ tell me yours didn't break down."

Her footsteps are getting closer and he lunges for the door, trying to shut it before she walks by.

He doesn't make it.

She's already there, stepping into his line of sight. "I mean, we can find a way to fix it but-" She pauses in the hallway and glances down at where he's on the floor, one arm stretched out and fingers on the knob.

Shit.

"Jonathan? What's going-" She takes one look at the scene in front of her, of them crouching down and Steve in the tub, and _knows_ something has happened. She doesn't hesitate, just makes them move out of the way so she can take their place.

Steve stares at her and coughs nervously, "Uh, hey, Mrs Byers. It's been awhile."

"It has," She replies and then she slowly moves the towel a bit. Jonathan is kind of surprised that he let's her.

He can tell she is mentally cataloguing his injuries and doesn't like what she sees. "Oh, _honey_."

"I know. I know it looks bad." Steve says. "But I can assure you, it feels worse."

The humor falls flat, _so flat_ , but at least he's not _crying_. So that's something.

"When did this happen?"

He looks like he's thinking about it. "Two or three hours ago, maybe? I don't really remember what time it was when I got there."

"When you got where?"

He doesn't answer right away. "Um, Neils house."

And wow, it's been awhile since he's seen _that_ look on his moms face.

"I should have just let Hopper _kill_ that bastard like he wanted to after he put his son in the hospital."

She's coming to the wrong conclusion but none of them argue with her.

She takes a deep breath. "Ok, so you're not sure when you got there…do you have any idea about how long you were there?"

He shakes his head.

"Ok, that's ok. Listen, I'm going to ask you something and you _need_ to tell me the truth ok?"

"Yeah. Ok."

" _Were_ you, or _are_ you bleeding?"

"Yeah." He answers softy. "I was...but I don't.. I don't know if it stopped."

Nancy squeezes his hand hard. Of course, Jonathan had already known that information. But Nancy hadn't.

"Ok, Honey. We need to take you to the hospital, then. Just to make sure everything is ok. "

He starts breathing heavy again. "I don't want to do that."

"I really think you need to. You don't have to tell them what happened. We'll do it, but a doctor needs to look at you."

"No."

And Jonathan thinks he understands what's going on. He could have driven himself to the hospital. He knew he was probably hurt enough to warrant an ER visit, but he _hadn't_. He'd come to _them._

It's fine that him and Nancy, and he guesses even his _mom_ now, are seeing him like this, because he _trusts_ them. He doesn't want anyone _else_ to see him or touch him.

Especially strange doctors.

"Mom, we should wait. I don't - we should let him calm down first."

She looks at him and he pleads with his eyes for her not to fight about this right now. He's fresh out of a panic attack and feeling vulnerable.

She doesn't look convinced at first, but eventually relents. "Ok. We can wait a little bit longer. But we're still going."

Steve's shoulders slump down in relief.

It's a team effort to get him out of the shower and Jonathan helps him get dressed.

His mom has already gotten him an ice pack for the knee and the strongest painkillers they have for his head by the time they come back into the living room.

Steve takes both gratefully and leans back against the couch cushions, closes his eyes.

"Don't fall asleep."

" 'm not. Just resting for a second."

Uh huh. Right.

He's pretty sure if they leave him alone he'll be passed out cold in less than a minute.

He's about to say just that when he sees his mom talking to Nancy in the kitchen, hears their conversation. "I should call Hop and have him-"

Nancy stops her from going to the phone. "No, don't call him yet."

Jonathan looks down at Steve and then back to the women and sighs. "I'll be back." He mutters, and then he's coming to stand behind his girlfriend.

His mom is frowning, hands shaking a bit as she lights a cigarette. "The longer we wait, the more time he has time to run."

"But it wasn't Neil."

Her brows knit together in confusion, "Then who was it?"

"It's...complicated," Nancy says and gives him a look over her shoulder that says _what now?_

"Honestly," She huffs, "how complicated can it _possibly_ be? _Someone_ attacked him and they could go and-"

" _Mom_." She stops talking at the tone of his voice and meets his eyes. "It's _complicated_ because it wasn't a _person_ that did it."

He watches as the sick realization dawns on her face." _No_. You don't mean…but the gate- are you _sure?_ "

"Yeah," He confirms sadly, _fearfully_ , "the Mind Flayer is back."

She does better than he thought she would at hearing the ugly truth. She's not _scared._ She's _angry_. "If that's true, we're going to need Dr Owens help, and Hop might not like it, but we may need El too. We _can't_ let it get out of control like last time. I won't have it out there _killing_ people again while we sit and do _nothing._ And if it's capable of _this_ kind of violence too, the sooner we burn it out the better. Why did it even-" She puts her cigarette in the ashtray, pauses, obviously coming to another realization. "Wait... _who_ did you say it took?"

"We didn't." And _fuck_ , Jonathan wishes this was all just a nightmare. "But I think you've figured it out." 

She stares back at Steve's sleeping form. " _Shit."_

* * *

The thing about possession, is that it sneaks up on you.

Or at least, that's how it happened with him. 

At first Billy was just missing a couple of hours here and there. He'd explained it away as too much sun exposure, too much weed, maybe work fatigue, basically _anything_ other than what it _was._ Because the thought that something could fucking _possess him_ never crossed his mind.

Of course, he knew what happened to Will and how fucked that situation was, but the gate was _closed._ It was supposed to be _over._ The creatures from that parallel world shouldn't be here anymore. Shouldn't be able to make themselves at home inside of humans.

Inside of _Billy_.

But somehow they _are._

And he hadn't fucking _known_.

How could he have missed something like this? How hadn't he known that something vile was intertwining its consciousness with his? That something insidious was crawling beneath his skin while he slept?

And once he'd realized what was happening to him, it was far too late. He hadn't even been able to press a single number on the phone before he felt it taking complete control.

And unlike the previous black out episodes, he was fully aware that it was happening this time. Could feel whatever it was that made him _him,_ being shoved into a corner of his mind. He'd fought, willed his limbs to obey him, but nothing worked.

It was _terrifying_.

And then it just got _worse._

It _talked_ to him and asked questions, so many questions. Sifted through his thoughts, his _memories,_ like it was flipping through a magazine. In a matter of minutes it knew most of his life story, could feel all the emotions and pain he'd ever felt.

But It couldn't understand them. Couldn't process them. Spent all its down time trying to figure humans out, trying to figure _him_ out. He tried to hide things from it, mainly his feelings for Steve and his knowledge of El, and he'd thought he'd gotten away with it.

Because it wasn't interested in that. It wanted to know more about the consuming rage he'd had in the past. It thought maybe they'd understand better if they experienced things first hand.

In real time.

So that's why they were at his fathers house, the _source_ of the incredible anger the monster was so curious about.

Billy didn't give a shit about what the shadow wanted with his dad, though. Kill him, possess him, it didn't make a difference to Billy. It could do what it wanted, he wouldn't fight it.

But then the game _changed_.

Because _Steve_ showed up.

And yeah, he probably should have seen that coming. He'd stayed away from him, stayed away from everyone for _days._ Of course his boyfriend would try to find him, would be worried about him.

It was something else he _should have known_. Something he should have thought about from the beginning. Something he should have prepared for. But he _hadn't_ because he'd let himself get scared. He'd let his guard down.

So, while he couldnt give a fuck less about his _dad_ , Steve was a totally different story.

And the worst part…

 _The worst part_ was that he couldn't even _warn_ him.

Not that it ended up mattering in the end.

Steve had already had it figured out before he'd snuck in. He'd figured it out in less than a _day,_ and since his self preservation skills were total _shit_ when it came to Billy, he'd come by himself.

Which proved to be the downfall of them _both_.

Because the monster had found the perfect way to achieve its goal. Had found the one thing that would break him, make him feel _every emotion imaginable._

And Billy…

Billy wants to fucking _die_.

Wants whatever deity that ends up being real to strike him down where he stands, because he sure as hell can't _live_ with himself after this.

It would have been fine if it had been _him,_ if the roles had been reversed _._ He has done a lot of horrible shit in his life. He'd _deserve_ it. He'd deserve that pain.

But Steve doesn't.

He thinks maybe if he'd been calmer, if he'd been more in control of his emotional response, he would have been able to save him. He'd gotten the upper hand for a moment but it slipped away _so fast._

And then he wasn't able to do much of anything except scream and yell and _watch_. He couldn't even black out, even though he tried so damn hard to.

He could tell it took perverse pleasure out of it. Maybe it hadn't _known_ the effect it would have on itself too. It seemed caught off guard and then got carried away.

In the end he'd _really_ started to lose his shit, because for a minute, Steve wasn't _breathing_. He knew at one point it had choked him. He thinks maybe he's dead. Thinks he'd really like to join him.

But then he makes an awful fucking noise and he really hopes someone knows where he is. Because he's terrified that he won't be able to _move_ after that.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He's never seen _anything_ as fucked up as that. And he'd lived with _Neil_.

It mocks him. Tells him it's _his_ fault and yeah, he fucking knows it's his fault. It doesn't need to remind him every five minutes.

He knows it's on him. Because he kept fighting, kept pushing back, practically daring this thing to take extreme measures. But he wouldn't have… he wouldn't have tried so hard if he'd known it would result in _this._

He won't ever be able to atone for it and Billy knows if he ever gets _any_ control over his body again, he's fucking jumping into the quarry. At least he'll take a piece of the bastard to hell with him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Billy's POV at the end is a bit of a hard one to read for certain people. Please read the TW's and take care of yourselves. 
> 
> ⚠TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠
> 
> Refrences to SA. Thoughts and ideations of suicide. Suicide attempt.

Joyce doesn't know if she's really equipped to handle this. But she's the only real adult here, the only _mom_ figure this kid has right now. And even if she _wasn't,_ it would still fall on her because she already knows about all the Upside Down crap.

The Upside Down crap that _apparently_ isn't over.

And God, she'd thought she hated the Mind Flayer _before_ , when it had possessed her son, when it had _killed Bob_. But _this?_ This really takes the cake doesn't it?

It's bad enough to be assaulted by a _stranger,_ but to have it be by your own _partner_? She's absolutely sick with the thought.

And he'd been _hurt_. He'd needed medical attention, but getting him to the hospital was a challenge. He kept insisting that they take him home, that he'd be fine after he got some sleep. He'd still been trying to talk them out of it when they'd pulled into the parking lot.

Got a little _louder_ about it even.

And if he hadn't had a head injury she probably would have given in, let him go home and just keep an eye on the knee. Trust him to take care of everything else.

But he _does_ have a head injury and she's worried about the dizziness and the headache that the Tylenol didn't get rid of. So, she's slowly ushering all of them out of the car and through the glass doors, because she'd never forgive herself if something else happened to him.

She's putting her foot down.

She's taking control.

She's the _mom_ here.

The mom that is telling them to _stay right there,_ that's marching up to the desk and asking for help, asking for discretion. The mom that doesn't leave his side until they get him a room.

She's the mom that will wait in an uncomfortable chair with her son's girlfriend until they're done.

And as she watches Jonathan disappear into the room behind Steve, she gets a _feeling._ She's not sure what exactly it is, but something is going on there.

With her son.

See, she knows what happened between the three teens last year, and she knows Steve doesn't hang out with him much, if at _all_ , without Nancy.

So why is it that he's suddenly so hesitant to leave his side? And why does Steve allow it? He even _wants_ Jonathan to stay with him. It's just…

It's strange to see Jonathan like he was today. He'd obviously taken control over the situation before she got home, and even when she _was_ there, he'd been behind her, making suggestions that _weren't suggestions._

He'd just been...different.

It's not really a side of him that she's seen before. He's normally standoffish, hesitant to take the lead in anything. Even in his relationship with Nancy, he's rather quiet, at least when they're around her.

He's a bit of a wallflower.

Lonnie had called him _soft,_ and that was probably the _only_ thing she agreed with him about.

"He's going to be ok, right?" Nancy's voice breaks her from her thoughts and it sounds fragile, like she's on the verge of shattering. It makes Joyce look over at her, because ever since the Upside Down came crashing into their lives, Nancy has been _anything_ but fragile. "I just…I want him to be ok."

Now that they're here, she's sure he's going to be ok _physically_ , but Joyce knows he's about to deal with a mental and emotional battle and she really hopes he's strong enough for it.

"He'll be ok." She replies, "He just won't be the same."

She sucks in a breath and hugs herself, doesn't say anything else.

They fall into a heavy silence until Jonathan comes down the hallway and they both stand up to meet him.

"What's going on?"

"They uh- it's really obvious what happened so they wanted to do an exam. He kinda freaked out so they had to sedate him."

"Jesus," Nancy mutters beside her.

Joyce looks over at her. "Is he really that afraid of hospitals?"

"I don't… he's said something about not going to the doctor because he'd rather just get through the sickness himself. He had a bad experience as a kid when he broke his arm. Maybe he really _is_ terrified."

She feels a bit nauseous. "Maybe I shouldn't have pushed him to come here." She mutters, mostly to herself.

"No, you were right to make him," Jonathan says, "He definitely has another concussion, they said his pupils were really dialated.

Joyce _knows_ that. It's why she wanted them to come here as soon as possible, but the boy had already been traumatized once today, she feels bad for traumatizing him again.

"What do we do now?" Nancy asks.

"Break it to the kids that the Mind Flayer is back." Jonathan replies. "But, you should probably do it."

"Why me?"

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "I need to be here when he wakes up."

"Ok." She gives him a look that Joyce can't quite read. "Yeah. I'll tell them."

Joyce actually agrees with that. "I need to tell Hopper."

Her son looks at her strangely for a second. "Don't tell him how he found out."

She frowns. "Why?"

"He'll want to go after the Mind Flayer, right? If he knows Steve is hurt, and that it was Billy he might be more aggressive than usual. Even if he doesn't mean to be."

"I don't think he would-"

"Mom, I just… I think the less people know, the better. If Steve wants to tell everyone, then whatever, but I don't think we should be telling people until he gives the ok."

He's right. They shouldn't be telling anyone. It's not their story to tell.

"So I'll just…" Nancy nods to the exit.

After Nancy leaves they are both quiet for awhile, lost in their own thoughts. But this whole thing with Jonathan still _bothers_ her.

"Jonathan?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't mean to pry, or anything, but I'm kind of confused about some things."

"Like about what happened?"

She shakes her head. "No, about _you_." He looks a little pale after she says that. "It's just…you're being more… assertive than usual? You've hardly left that boys side,and I don't think I've heard you talk this much in _years_. It's just throwing me off."

He doesn't look at her, bites his thumbnail.

"Steve trusts me, and he needs someone looking out for him. I just… I feel really protective. I didn't want him to feel so alone, because that sucks."

There's something about the way he says it, that hits her in the gut. "Do.." She clears her throat. "Do _you_ feel like you're alone, Jonathan?"

His head snaps up and he turns to her. "What? No. I…I have all of you. Why would I feel alone?"

She still thinks there's something he's not saying, so she presses him. "But you have in the past." If he has, she knows when it would have been and guilt crashes into her. "Before I took you and Will and left Indianapolis. When I was working all the time."

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, slides his palms on his jeans. "Mom, it's fine. You were…you _had_ to. You needed the money to get away from dad."

"But still, I should have noticed." Should have done better.

He shakes his head. "Stop. I'm good. It's not a problem anymore."

She doesn't really believe him, but it's not really the time or the place to have this discussion, so she leaves it alone.

They should be focused on helping Steve right now.

So, she leaves it at that and gets up to find a phone.

She's got to break the news to Hopper.

* * *

Steve doesn't want to be here anymore. He wants to go _home_. Wants out of this stupid hospital gown. Wants to get away from the smell of disinfectant, the feel of _needles_ and stranger's hands, the sound of his heart monitor. Wants to never see a sterile room like this _ever again_.

He tries not to be angry about it. They were right about bringing him in. His knee is wrapped and everything that needed bandaging was taken care of, so like he's not going to get an infection now, but he still _hates_ it.

He has _always_ hated doctors and hospitals. Always felt trapped in them. Felt caged. Got irritable and combative.

Probably why they had to sedate him like he was a wild animal.

Not that he's complaining about that exactly, he's glad he was knocked out for whatever exams they did because he probably would have decked somebody, but it sucks that other people made that decision for him.

At least Jonathan was there when he woke up. It was a relief to see someone familiar, someone he trusts. He didn't come bearing the best news though.

He had rubbed his head and told him that they'd decided they were admitting him _just in case._ He also let him know that Nancy had apparently broken the news to the kids, and that Max hadn't taken it well.

Like _. At. All._

But he'd already known that she would be upset. She'd probably be as upset as _him_. They'd both watched her brother struggle, watched him learn how to be a better person after they'd gotten him away from Neil.

They'd finally seen him _happy_ and the siblings had been closer than ever. So to know he'd been taken over? That he was at the mercy of the enemy they'd thought they'd finally left behind?

She'd probably been devastated.

So it's decided. She's the first person he's gonna see when he gets out of here. Because she's the only one who really _truly_ understands the relationship he has with Billy. They're going to have to stick together if they're going to get through this.

Jonathan had also told him that his mom had called Hopper. He'd been angry, and immediately contacted Dr Owens. Help was _coming_. They'd find him. Burn it out.

_Fix it._

_Well_ , they both know there's no _fixing this_ , but they would at least feel better knowing the son of a bitch was gone for good.

By then it had been getting late, so he'd offered to stay with him, but Steve didn't want him to be stuck in an uncomfortable chair _all_ night, so around midnight he told him to go get some sleep. Even if it was out on a waiting room couch.

So now he's alone, watching the window glow with the morning sun, because as exhausted as he'd felt, even coming out of sedation last night, he just _couldn't sleep_.

When he'd started drifting off, his body had jerked and he'd _remembered._ And then he couldn't turn his thoughts off, couldn't stop _thinking._

About the Mind Flayer and what it did, and how stupid he was for even _going in there,_ about how he hadn't tried hard enough to get away and how royally he'd fucked up.

He thought about _Billy_ and wondered where he was. If he was ok. Wondered what else the monster was doing, what else it was making _him_ do.

If he was blaming himself for what happened…

Then it would start all over again.

He'd cried off and on for hours. Partially because of how helpless he felt, but mostly because his _heart_ hurt. His chest _ached_ and it wasn't from any of his injuries. It was just a deep rooted pain that wouldn't stop. 

Even now it's a dull ache inside him and he wonders if it will ever go away.

After everything he's been through, he really fucking doubts it.

~

It's half past ten when he hears a shuffling at the door. He thinks it may be Nancy, or that Jonathan has come back, hopefully with edible _food_ , but when he looks over it's Dustin that's standing there.

Well...shit.

"Oh, uh, hey. How did you get here?"

"I made Nancy bring me." He explains, moving further into the room. "I've been…I've been _really worried_ , Steve."

Fuck. He _knows_ that already. He knew he would be, but he still didn't want the kid to see him like this. "I'm sorry, Dustin. I didn't mean to worry you."

"You said… you said that you'd be _ok_ ," He says and comes closer to the bed. It sounds like he's trying not to cry. "but… you're in the _hospital_."

"It's…it's a _formality_ at this point. It was overnight observation." He taps the side of his head. "I've had one too many concussions in the last year. They wanted to make sure there's no lasting damage."

"And?"

"No ones been hovering over me, so I'm gonna assume everything's good."

He leans over to get his water because he is suddenly thirsty as hell, but when he leans back Dustin is looking at him weird.

"Steve."

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Why- uh why are there bite marks on you? Why would someone bite you in a _fight_? Isn't that playing dirty?"

His hand automatically covers the one bandaged on his shoulder. Well, shit. He hadn't thought about the _other ones_ being visible. He sighs and closes his eyes, he doesn't really want to see the kid when he says, "I wasn't in a fight, Dustin."

"What?"

He looks at his confused face.

Well…

It's going to come out anyway. Might as well just get it over with. He takes a breath and swallows his trepidation. "I wasn't in a _normal_ fight. Not really. I couldn't- uh- shit. " Why is this so hard? "I _was_ assaulted but it was...it was sexual."

It takes a moment for it to register and then Dustin's eyes widen. "What? You mean…like a _girl_ did that to you?"

He snorts and shakes his head. "Well, that probably happens sometimes, but no… no a girl didn't do it."

His face darkens. "Who?"

"Not someone you need to worry about."

" _Steve."_

Jesus Christ. The kid never gives up. "They told you what I found out right? That the Mind Flayer really is back?"

" _Yeah_." He says slowly.

He motions to himself. "This is how I found out."

"What the _fuck_? But it possessed _Billy_ this time."

Steve just stares at him.

" _Holy shit._ " Dustin whispers when he realizes. "Holy shit! That's…that's super messed up, man. He's like… your _best friend_."

"Yeah." He sighs, the kids are gonna find out about the boyfriend thing too aren't they? "Yeah. I know. It...really sucks."

"What the _fuck."_ He looks really upset now. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that happened to you."

He wants to say it's ok. That he doesn't have to worry, that's he's _fine_. But he's _not,_ so he just says, "Thanks, buddy."

Dustin is quiet for a minute, which kinda freaks Steve out, because the kid is known for never shutting up. Eventually he mutters, "Who else knows about it?"

"Nancy, Jonathan, and Joyce." He says, "and the _doctors_ obviously." He may be a _little_ bitter about the doctors. "Uh, and Hopper probably knows, or he will soon…"

"Are you going to tell anyone else?"

He doesn't know how he could possibly avoid everyone finding out, their lives are all so intertwined now, but the fact that it was...the fact that it was _Billy,_ makes it so much more personal.

"I don't think I really want to? I mean, I'll probably be...kind of _messed up_ for awhile," Yeah, that's the understatement of the _year_." So everyone will obviously know about it, but-" He stops. He doesn't know how to say what he's feeling. "I don't want...their pity or whatever. I just want the flayer _gone_."

"Ok, I won't say anything. I promise."

"But can you tell Max that I want to see her? I'll come find her."

He raises his brows but nods. "Yeah. I can tell her."

They talk for a bit longer but it's strained, doesn't come easy like it usually does, and he _hates it._ He doesn't want this to change things… but it's going to, isn't it?

When Dustin leaves he sighs loudly into the empty room.

He wants to go home.

* * *

**August 1985**

It takes at least two weeks for the guys in suits to finally catch up to Billy and Heather. The original hosts had been able to evade the first two round up's and hide out, stay under the radar. The shadow wanted to lay low for a while and then start the process all over again. Making more of it.

He doesn't know how they found them, they'd been hiding in _Kentucky,_ for Christ's sake _,_ but somehow they _had._

And _fuck_ , Billy is so goddamned relieved to see the _Chief_. If he's here, then they're definitely about to take down the mother fucker. Because Hopper is like him, and he is probably one thousand percent done with this Upside Down shadow bullshit.

Billy's apparently a _priority_ , because they go after him _first_ even though Heather is closer. He decides it's the perfect time to fight back against this thing again. He focuses hard, uses every ounce of will power to make it falter for _just a second_ and that's all it takes for them to pin him to the ground.

They shoot something into his neck and he gives the shadow a mental middle finger before gladly welcoming the dark sweet abyss.

He doesn't know how long he was out, but he comes back to consciousness abruptly, _terrifyingly_ , because he's suddenly _on fire._ The thing screams inside his head and even though it _hurts_ -and _god it fucking hurts_ \- Billy laughs, because it's the end of the road. It's the end of the road for _both_ of them.

It's a painful death. But it's no more than he deserves. He'd be ok with burning forever for all the fucked up shit he did in the last three weeks. He's already accepted his fate. He had the moment they'd left his boyfriend bleeding on the kitchen floor of his house.

So, yeah. Let's do this. He's ready. But then he feels like something is being torn, shredded, _ripped_ from him and the screaming suddenly _stops_. The burning _stops_ and without the heat to keep him awake, he's left to fall into darkness once again.

~

The next time he wakes up, he's in a quiet room with an IV in his arm. He's also in some god awful scrubs and hooked up to a bunch of monitors.

What the fuck is going on? He is so confused. He thought…

Shouldn't he be..

He looks around and the chief is there. Sitting in a chair next to the bed. He tells him that they burned the shadow -the Mind Flayer- out of him two days ago. He's no longer possessed and he's already been quarantined. Says there's no residual effects from the Upside Down in his body, the doctors have run their tests and he is as healthy as an eighteen year old boy could be.

He thinks that's unfortunate.

He's _apparently_ not at a normal hospital either. It's a _lab_. With scientists and everything. Because he'd been, you know, _possessed_ by some otherworldly shadow thing, normal doctors and hospitals were obviously out of the question.

When he finally processes that he truly is back in control of himself, he starts to sweat, starts to tremble. He feels shaky. Feels the need to run. Doesn't want to be here. Doesn't want to _be._ And then it gets worse, because he thinks he hears _his_ name.

_Steve._

He doesn't know what the Chief said about him, if he'd said anything at all, because _all_ he can think about is how the hands in his lap had forced him down. How they'd choked him, _hurt_ him. He bites his lip and then remembers all the places his teeth had sunk into. Remembers the taste of his blood in his mouth. Remembers the screams. Remembers the _crying_ , the _begging_. He remembers every horrific detail.

The Chief is asking him if he's alright.

No. He's _not_ fucking alright. _He wants to rip his fucking skin off_.

But he nods and says _I'm fine_.

He just wants him to leave. Wants to be alone. Wants to be able to work out the shifts. Wants to get out of here. Wants to _die_.

And he finally gets his chance around three in the morning. It hurts but he eventually gets the IV out of his arm and takes off the damn pressure cuff. It doesn't take him long once he's out of the room to find what he's looking for.

There's only one option he can think of in this moment, and he finds the _EXIT_ sign at the end of the hall. He doesn't know how many floors this place has but he still climbs. He climbs up and up the stairs until he's met with a door.

_Roof Access_

There's no hesitation, he shoves the door open and walks out toward the night sky. He can see it so clearly from here. There are no clouds tonight, so every star is visible, twinkling brightly in the darkness, and the moon casts a soft light across the landscape. Any other time, he would say it was all breathtakingly beautiful. But nothing is beautiful anymore. Everything has been tainted by the monster.

He steps up on the concrete ledge and stares out over the woods of Hawkins. It looks small from up here.

Insignificant.

Like his life.

He moves closer. If he does this then it's over. No more guilt, no more memories, no more _anything_. He won't be able to hurt anyone ever again. But it kind of sucks that the damn woods are going to be the last thing he sees.

Oh, well.

He moves to jump, swears his foot met air, but suddenly rough hands are pulling him back and away from the promise of death.

"Hey!" A man's voice yells. "Stop! What the hell are you trying to do? Huh?" It's the Chief. He's holding tightly to him, dragging him a foot away and breathing like he'd just run a marathon. "I didn't _save_ your punk ass just for you to go and jump off a _goddamn roof_ the minute my back is turned."

He fights against the burly man, voice frantic and pleading. "Let me go! Let me go! Let me die! Please! I want to die! I want it to stop! _Please!_ "

"Whoa kid! Whoa! Slow down. Why do you want to die?"

"I can't _be_ in this _body_ anymore. I can't! It's …it's tainted. It's wrong. It's _evil_. This body hurt people. Killed people. It hurt the person I love the _most_ in the _worst_ way possible! I can't...how can I live with myself after _doing that_ to him?"

"It was you?" The Chiefs asks quietly, and his grip falters for a moment. Billy almost gets away.

"You saw him, then." He states. "If you _saw_ my handiwork then you _know_ why I have to do this."

"No. _No_. These feelings, Billy. These feelings are _temporary_ , ok? We can help you through this. None of that was your fault."

" _Please_ , " He begs, and he knows he's crying now, desperate for it all to stop _hurting_. "Please, just let me _end it."_

"Sorry, kid. You're not dying on my watch."

And then he's being hauled up and brought back inside where a doctor sticks a needle in his arm and he passes back out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠
> 
> References to SA and attempted suicide.  
> Non consensual restraint(?)  
> If anyone has issues regarding mental health facilities you may be uncomfortable from here on out because Billy is at the lab, but they are holding him against his will because of his mental state. 
> 
> Read at your own discretion. 
> 
> Unbeta'd

It's seven in the morning, and Joyce is having her morning smoke and making coffee when she gets the phone call.

The call that hammered in the fact that things could never be simple when dealing with the Upside Down.

Hopper sounds exhausted on the other end of the line as he tells her he needs her to come to the lab right now. It's _important_. Urgent.

It's about _Billy._

And she's the only one he trusts to help, because he _can't trust the white coats. Who knows what ulterior motives they could have?_

And as much as she likes to be Hoppers _go to gal,_ Joyce doesn't think she's really the right person for the job.

Because she is _definitely_ not equipped to handle _this_.

This is…

Where are they supposed to _start_?

At least with Steve there'd been obvious steps to take to help him. But what do you do when an already susceptible teenager with a history of abuse has spent the better part of a month, possessed and made to do the bidding of a _monster_?

There's no instruction manual for that.

But she has to _try._ She has to do _something_ , because somebody needs to advocate for him. His stepmom doesnt know a thing about the Upside Down and they don't want to bring anyone else into the fold. Hopper is afraid his presence would be too intimidating at first considering his history, so Joyce _is_ the best option.

And this boy…

 _This_ boy _really_ needs her help _._ Maybe even more than Steve had.

When Owens men had burned the Mind Flayer out of all those people, they interviewed them, she's been reading the reports, and most of them said they were blacked out pretty much the entire time they were possessed. Some weren't even aware they'd _been_ possessed in the first place.

It was easy for them all to believe it when they told them that anything that may have happened wasn't their fault, that their bodies had been taken over by an entity, so nothing that transpired was on them.

Most of them were more than happy to sign NDA's and leave the guilt at the door when they left.

But _Billy_ …Owens found out rather quickly that he had been sharing a consciousness with the Flayer practically the _whole_ time. He had been the original host. The one to infect all the others, and he'd managed to stay _aware_.

He remembers _everything._

Joyce had really, _really_ hoped he wouldn't, but Hop had told her over the phone when he'd called her down here, when he'd told her he tried to kill himself, that he did. He'd asked her when they were planning on telling him that it was _Billy_ that had _fucked Harrington up_. There was only one way for him to know that information.

Billy had _told_ him.

He remembered what the Flayer did to Steve, and she could guarantee that it was most likely the reason he tried to jump. He'd begged Hop to let him _die_ , and god she wants to kill that monster again for hurting these two kids so much. For hurting all the kids so much.

So, now they were going to be dealing with an extremely volatile, emotional _bomb_ in the form of a boy, and Joyce needs to keep her game face on.

She can't let the monsters win.

She had absolutely no idea what she was about to walk in on, she didn't really know what to _expect_ either, but it wasn't this.

He's lying in the same bed, the same _room_ they'd had Will in less than a year ago. Only this time it's raised up a bit, and unlike Will, Billy's hands are restrained to the railing and he has a strap across his chest.

He's asleep, but he still looks exhausted and sickly. Like he's lost weight and been ill for weeks, and she supposes he _has_. Did the Flayer bother to eat anything? Did it take care of its host? Surely it had?

She walks up and grabs his chart from the solemn lab assistant sitting in the corner and sits in the chair next to the bed. She looks through his chart and it shows a sedative has been used multiple times, which would explain why he didn't stir when she came in.

So now she has to wait until the sedative wears off to talk to him, which is fine. It gives her time to read through everything and figure out what to say, and when he finally wakes up, when he _sees_ her, he looks a mix of angry and upset.

"Mrs Byers." It comes out raspy and she hates it. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to help."

He sighs. "Help? With what?"

"Well, you need someone to advocate for you while you're here, make sure you're being taken care of, so." She points to herself.

"Ok...but why _you, specifically_?"

She tilts her head. "It needed to be someone that cares about your wellbeing-."

He makes a noise that is _probably_ supposed to be a laugh. "You really shouldn't care about that."

"Why not?" She asks him. "I cared _before_ this whole mess, why wouldn't I, after?"

He frowns and looks at the wall behind her. Doesn't seem to want to look at her.

"Because now I've _killed_ people." He says. "Hurt people. Infected people with that..that _shadow monster_. No one should care what happens to me." He sounds bitter when he quietly adds, "The Chief should have let me jump."

She can tell that he truly believes it and it breaks her heart. "I know you won't want to hear this, but all the things that happened are _not_ your fault."

"Some of it was. Some of it was because of me. That fucking shadow monster did horrible shit to punish me for...for fighting _back_."

She remembers what Jonathan had told her that first night. That the Flayer had hurt Steve to punish Billy. It makes her uncomfortable and sick to her stomach.

"Even if that is the case, it's still not on _you_. The Mind Flayer is the one that did all of it."

"Guess, we'll have to agree to disagree."

They stare at each other for awhile and she really doesn't know what to say to him. He's not in a place where he's going to want to listen. His mind is still wounded and bleeding.

She decides on something semi neutral. "Do you have any questions for me? Do you want to know anything in particular about what's happened since July?"

He looks surprised and then asks, "Is Heather ok?"

"Heather Holloway?" She knows from the reports that Heather was the one captured with him. The first one he infected. They'd spent the most time together. "Yes. She was cleared to go back home to her parents this morning."

"Did she… " He clears his throat, "She doesn't remember, right? What we did? Was she...she didn't know what it was doing the whole time, right?"

Joyce shakes her head. "As far as we know _you_ are the only one that knows what really happened. Most of the others didn't even know they'd been taken over."

"Good. I'm glad she doesn't remember. It wasn't...it wasn't pretty." He sounds so relieved. "What about Max? How is she?"

"She is upset that you're still here, and that she can't see you, but otherwise she is completely fine."

"Thank god, I wasn't sure. I mean I didn't _see_ her so I figured the kids were safe, but..."

"They were safe. We kept them safe. You don't have to worry."

"Ok. Ok. Good." He's quiet for awhile, clenches and unclenches his restrained fists, and she wonders if he is ever going to ask about him. Then he gets kind of teary eyed and finally stutteres out, "H-how…fuck… is...is _Harrington_ ok?"

She can tell he is completely terrified of the answer. "He's better." She says because he's not as fine as he thinks he is. "He's ok."

He closes his eyes and she's pretty sure he's trying not to cry. "Thanks."

All she can really think to say is, "You're welcome."

* * *

The last two weeks had been a certain kind of hell for Steve.

First it was all the questions the first time the brats saw him, then it was Nancy _checking_ in on him all the time. Calling and having Jonathan bring her over because _we just want to make sure you're ok._

Jonathan was always quiet, though, always seemed to apologize with his eyes. Like he knows how uncomfortable it all is for Steve and that he feels bad that he doesn't stop her.

But it's not like Steve is _mad_ at her, he appreciates the concern, it's just after the fourth and fifth day, it got old. By that time some things had already healed, the bruises were well on their way, and sure he'd still had crutches for the knee but that was because the doctors wanted him to use them for a bit.

He was getting tired of repeating himself, constantly saying he was fine, but he never had the heart to tell her to stop.

Max obviously didn't have such qualms.

She'd been coming over off and on since the day he was released, and she'd seen how irritated and withdrawn he was becoming.

They'd gotten closer, even with her knowing the truth about what happened between him and the Flayer. She hurt for him, hurt for them _both,_ so she always stayed when he needed her. Let him vent, walked with him when he needed to be outside and sat in silence when he couldn't function.

And yeah, maybe he shouldn't be piling all his issues onto her, Lord knows she has plenty of her own already, but… she is the only one that understands. The only one that's more worried about Billy than him. The only other one whose heart is on the edge of breaking.

He _trusts_ her and she _understands_.

So that's why she could tell that he was about to shut the fuck down when Nancy had knocked, why she'd gotten up from the couch the minute they walked in the front door, shoved past him and told them to _turn around right now and go home. He's the same as he was yesterday and the day before that and if anything changes, he'll let you know._

Nancy's face had scrunched up and she'd opened her mouth to speak, but Jonathan had grabbed her and turned her back around, maneuvering her towards the vehicle.

Max hadn't quite _slammed_ the door, but it was a near thing.

He'd given her a look of awe but she just rolled her eyes and flopped back onto the couch. _Someone had to tell her to chill the hell out. You look a lot better and those crutches are mostly for show now, right? If you were struggling, you'd tell her._

Max is right and wrong at the same time. It's not the physical stuff that he's struggling with right now. Proof of the ordeal fades with every day, but his anxious pacing, his thundering heartbeat and wild thoughts still consume him.

He has nightmares nearly every time he falls asleep, and it wasn't always about the attack.

Sometimes it's about Billy being trapped, being dragged down by the shadow, it's of him _dying_. And _dream Steve_ is as helpless as he was when he was awake. He just watches him getting further and further away.

So...

Steve doesn't sleep much anymore.

But sleep would have eluded him anyway, because the Chief and Owens men had failed to capture Billy the first time. He'd been so worried that they'd never get him, that he'd be at the Flayers mercy forever, that he'd paced his house all night while Max watched from the kitchen table.

Two weeks ago he'd been an emotional mess.

And it's not going to be much better now because it's a little after ten at night and the phone is ringing.

Nancy hasn't called in days.

So it has to be _the call._

He nearly trips over his own feet but he still manages to answer before the second ring.

It's just...he's been _waiting_ on this call. He's been waiting for this call for _three days._ He swears they'd kept him out of the loop on purpose. He knew Hopper found them, Billy and his coworker Heather, but other than that he had not been informed of _anything_.

So this is big.

"Hello?"

 _"Hey, kid."_ He says, and Steve thinks he sounds a little off, but it's Hopper, so…

He jumps right in. "Is he ok? Did they get it? Is it over?" He's desperate to know.

" _Yeah. They got it out_. _It's gone for good._ "

He leans his back against the wall. "Thank God." He's so happy to hear that. "So where is he? Is he at the lab? When can I see him?"

There's a shuffling on the other end followed by a low sigh. " _You can't see him, Steve. He's on lock down_."

"What? _Why_? If it's gone then why would-"

" _There was an incident shortly after he woke up."_

His heart skips a beat and his stomach squeezes. "What do you mean? What kind of incident? What happened?"

_"Look, if I tell you, you got to keep calm, ok?"_

"Please just tell me, Hop, what happened?"

" _He finally woke up last night. But he snuck out of his room during a shift change and climbed up to the roof of the lab…"_ He pauses and Steve's heart races. " _He...he tried to jump off. We've got him on suicide watch."_

" _What_?" Steve feels light headed and nauseous.

 _Running_.

He'd expected him to _run._ Not try to _kill himself._

"No. No. I need to see him."

_"Joyce doesn't think that's a good idea."_

"Fuck Joyce." And yeah, ok, that's a shit thing to say because Joyce is awesome, but he _needs_ to see him.

" _Steve._ _ **Listen**_ _to me. He is not doing good, ok? I was the one that stopped him. He was…"_ He pauses, " _he_ _ **is**_ _mentally unstable and Joyce, she's looking out for him. She and the doctors, they agree that if he sees you, it may make him worse."_

"I'll make it worse?"

" _Yeah. He, well, when he tried to jump, he was talking about what he did to you."_

Steve wants to cry "Oh. You know then."

_"Yeah, I know. And that's also why I agree with them. He can't see you, kid. Not right now. It might set him off."_

He feels like puking. He'd known, of course, he'd known how guilty he'd feel, but for some reason he hadn't seen this outcome. An outcome where even _seeing_ Steve would cause him harm.

But he still wants to see him. Needs to see he's ok with his own two eyes. Needs to know that he's himself. That the monster really is gone.

"Fine. Then don't let _him_ see _me_. But _I_ need to see _him_. Can you get me in there? I can look at security monitors or some shit, I don't care. Just..Please, Chief. I need to see him."

It's silent on the other end and then the man sighs loudly. _"Ok. I'll see what I can do. But, it's not a pretty sight. He's...I would suggest you wait until he's in a better place. He doesn't look good."_

"I don't _care_."

" _Ok, ok, I'll try to get them to give you a pass."_

"Thank you."

" _But don't expect too much."_

He knows that. He'll probably be lucky to even get in. "I won't."

* * *

It only takes a day for Hopper to convince Dr Owens to allow Steve to come up and sit in the monitoring room.

Hopper stops, gives him a look that _screams_ concerned parent. "Are you sure about this, kid?" He asks, "You haven't, uh, you haven't seen him since-"

Steve hurries to cut him off. "Yeah, I'm sure. I'm not running away from this."

The man nods and has him follow him into a small room with a bunch of tv screens. And right there in the center, where a man is sitting in a chair watching, is _Billy_.

His heart beats a bit faster when he walks up, and for a moment he hesitates, has to stuff down the ugly feelings he's been dealing with for the past seventeen days, but then he makes himself _look_..

And…

He has to stop himself from touching the screen.

Now he knows the other reason why Hopper didn't want him to come. Why he didn't want him to see Billy.

Billy looks… he looks _awful_. His hair is limp around his face. There are dark circles under his eyes, his face is gaunt, pale, and his lips look like they've been bitten a hundred times over.

So, he's in rough shape, but Steve is so _so_ relieved to see that he _does_ look like _himself_ again. He's not _wrong_ anymore. He's...The Flayer is…

It's really _gone_.

And Steve would probably cry about it if Hopper wasn't hovering behind him. Not that he much cares about the man seeing him cry, but Hopper might see the tears and think he's having a negative reaction, might make him _leave,_ and he doesn't want to leave.

Not yet.

And then… then he sees the fucking _straps_ around his wrists and over his chest and anger overtakes the relief.

"Hey," He points to the screen, "Hey, why the _hell_ do they have him strapped down?"

The guy at the desk looks bored as he says, "Because he's combative and a danger to himself and others."

"Don't you think that's a little _cruel?"_ He asks him, not even trying to hide the contempt in his voice. "He was _just_ _possessed_. He had no agency, no control over anything for like...a _month_ , and you guys have him fucking _immobilized_?" He looks over at Hopper, like _what the fuck?_

Hopper shakes his head, "Look, kid. It's not my call."

"Maybe it should be." He grumbles.

The door opens, halting the conversation, and Steve looks behind him to see Joyce staring down at some documents as she enters. She nearly bumps into him.

"Oh, Steve. What - uh, " She glances at Hopper, "what are you doing here, sweetie?"

" _Apparently_ watching my _boyfriend_ have no control over his own body again." He glares at the guy again, daring him to open his fucking mouth about his confession, but he remains silent.

Good.

He isn't in the mood to deal with assholes.

Joyce sets the papers down on the desk. "I know it's hard to see, and it probably feels wrong for him to be restrained after everything he's been through, but right now it really is for his benefit."

The anger melts into something else, "Because he tried to jump right?"

"Yes," She agrees, "He took out his own IV. They don't want him to attempt anything while he's in this mood."

"But still…can't they just put him in a room that feels less… _sterile_ or something ?" Ugh. He would hate being confined here. With the white walls and clean lines and people in scrubs… "And has anyone actually talked to him? He's obviously hurting, it can't be good for him to just sit there in silence."

"I've been speaking with him," She insists, "and I promise I'm trying my best to help. It's just going to be difficult."

He knows that. Joyce always goes above and beyond for them all. She's a really good person, a really good _mom,_ and Steve is grateful for her.

The Chief adds, "It's a bit touch and go right now, but we're both trying here."

"I know. I believe you." He sighs, "I'm just… I don't like this. I _get_ it, but I don't _like_ it, and I want to at least talk to someone about getting him in a better room."

"Legally, you really don't have a leg to stand on when it comes to his situation. You're not family," Hopper tells him, and before he can get shitty again continues, "but…I think Owens would be willing to work with us on this. We all want the same thing.

And Steve knows that it's true. The only thing any of them want right now, is to help Billy heal.


End file.
